


Keep Your Comrade Warm

by dubstepgun



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-26
Updated: 2012-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-08 14:30:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dubstepgun/pseuds/dubstepgun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team's stuck in the cold. Heavy helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Your Comrade Warm

The BLU team was fighting the cold and the cold was fighting back. At first they had done fairly well for themselves, with Pyro building snowmen to melt and Scout throwing snowballs at Soldier and somehow managing to keep all his limbs. Now the snow had started in earnest and they were cloistered inside around the furnace (Mann Co. LTD, kerosene, Guaranteed Explosion Resistant!(tm)), watching the drifts pile up against the window. 

"Fucking snow," Scout said succinctly, rubbing his hands together in the blue mittens his ma had sent him last Christmas. 

"Sleet, hailstones the size'a golf balls, that a man c'n take," said Demoman. "Not this muck what freezes yer jauries together." 

"Perhaps zey vish to kill us wiz hypothermia in order to renege on ze contract." Medic tapped a spoon on his coffee to break the rind of ice. 

"Mrff mrf mrrmrr mghrgh hrff?" said Pyro, who was curled into a shapeless pile on the corner of the couch. 

"Nah, settin' us on fire won't help much," said Sniper from an armchair. While his face was impassive, his knitting needles clacked together like chattering teeth. "'Preciate the sentiment, though." 

The door blew open with a blast of chill air to a collective cringe and outcry. Heavy tromped in and shook the snow from his overcoat. 

"How is team enjoying the north?" he bellowed cheerfully, as Spy cupped protective hands around his cigarette. 

Soldier's head popped up from behind the couch. 

"SHUT THAT DOOR, MAGGOT, UNLESS IT'S YOUR PLAN TO FREEZE US SOLID AND THAW US OUT WHEN THE APES AND COMMIES HAVE TAKEN OVER THE EARTH!" 

"What, this?" Heavy said, spreading his arms, though he did leisurely kick the door closed. Under his coat he wore nothing more than his usual uniform. "This is nazhing! Is springtime, for leetle birdies!" 

"We weren't all raised by freakin' polar bears, ya mutant," said Scout. 

"Is not so bad." Heavy's exuberant expression faded as he looked at the portraits of frozen misery arranged around the room. His brow furrowed. "Is it?" 

"'Ave you any suggestions to 'elp us, 'Eavy, I would be glad to hear zem," said Spy, as his cigarette slipped from numb fingers and landed on the floor. 

"If you burn down our base in the middle of a blizzard, that would be what they call cosmic irony." Engineer was visible as a hardhat and goggles above a blue blanket. 

Heavy watched Spy mutter and crush the cigarette with his boot, a thoughtful look on his face. He smiled broadly. 

"I have good idea. Come to back room, and we discuss." 

Spy was midway through the motion of taking out another cigarette. He tucked it back, closed the case, and slipped it into his pocket as he searched Heavy's expression. 

"Oui," he said, with perfect aplomb. "There are always...options." 

Scout wrapped his skinny arms around himself as Spy sauntered past. "If it works, you'd better fuckin' share." 

"I intend to," said Spy, closing the door behind them an instant before being pinned to the wall and discovering that Heavy's broad hands and mouth could seem to touch every inch of his chilled body at once. 

A while later Spy emerged, straightening his balaclava, smoothing his suit, and feeling much, much warmer. 

"Don't we look smug as the cat what ate the canary," Sniper said. 

Spy ignored his crabby tone and leaned over by him to say something very lowly, punctuated with glances toward the back room and intriguingly ambiguous gestures. 

Sniper said, "Really?" 

Spy nodded, with a significant look. 

Thus it happened that Sniper wandered off, and when he came back (tasting salt from biting down on Heavy's shoulder to keep from making a sound), mentioned that the snow wasn't so bad, really. 

"Kinda pretty," he said, leaning back comfortably next to Spy to watch the flakes fall. 

"Fuckin' weirdos," Scout said. 

Medic remembered that he had left something in the back room. 

Over the next few days, whenever someone was shivering alone, somehow Heavy would unobtrusively appear. While Engineer was trying to cobble together a more effective radiator from charcoal, tinfoil, and twine, he found Heavy's arm draped around his shoulders, and a little while later was smiling to himself and seemed to have misplaced his helmet. When Pyro knocked curiously on his bald head, he only laughed. 

If there was any doubt about what was going on, it evaporated when Demoman swaggered by the table and said, "'Ey, Doc. I jest got sucked off by yer wife." 

"Ja, ja, zat's nice," Medic said without looking up from his book. 

Scout glared from the corner of the couch, body knotted like a poked and unhappy sea anemone. "If you all are gonna be a bunch of fuckin' fags, at least shut up about it." 

"The term is sit-chew-ay-shunal homo-sexuality!" said Soldier, adjusting his helmet with a determined cast. "I am going to investigate!" 

By the time Heavy emerged with Pyro, who was stumbling around making happy mrffing sounds, Scout had had it. He jerked upright. 

"Hey, fatass!" 

Heavy was patting Pyro on the shoulder and saying something, and didn't turn around. 

"Lardo!" Scout jumped over the back of the couch and planted himself in front of Heavy. "Are you as deaf as y'are ugly? I'm talkin' to you!" 

Heavy released Pyro, who wandered off huddah'ing dizzily, and faced Scout. It looked like a boulder facing down a matchstick. The clack of Sniper's knitting needles went quiet. Medic watched with the quiet professional attention of the one who would have to paste the pieces back together. 

"Leetle man has problem?" said Heavy. 

"I got a big fuckin' problem." Scout scowled and looked around. "But I ain't talkin' about it in front of the chucklenut gallery." 

Everyone suddenly looked busy. 

"Come, then," Heavy said, face impassive. "I always have time for comrade." 

Once they were out of sight, Scout tried to pin Heavy against the wall, which didn't really work because of the masses involved, but he ignored that. 

"So what's Pyro?" he demanded. "A guy, or a chick, or what?" 

"Is comrade," said Heavy stoically. 

"Fuck, man," Scout hissed, turning away in disgust. "You don't fuckin' get it at all." 

"No one is making Scout participate. You see thing you don't like, you look somevhere else, da?" 

"Not da, you commie asshole," Scout said, whirling back around to grab Heavy's shirt and haul himself close to his face. "How long were you planning on leavin' me out in the cold?" 

Heavy's brow knit together. He had a look on his face that was slightly unnerving, the kind of look that was a sudden reminder that big did not always mean stupid. 

"Leetle man," he said slowly, "is jealous." 

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed.," Scout growled, grabbing fistfuls of Heavy's shirt and nearly lifting himself off the ground to try to bring his face closer. "You got any idea how long I been wantin' you to finger-fuck me, fagweasel?" 

It took a few seconds for Heavy to parse through Scout's nonstandard English. Comprehension dawned slowly over his face. 

"I thought you would not want. Are always saying, have no interest in men. So I leave alone." 

"I'm not queeah, dumbass," Scout said, as something of the aggression faded from his posture, though he didn't make any move to let go of Heavy. "I'm cold. You're warming everybody else up. I ain't missin' my turn." 

Heavy's voice was a rumble Scout felt through his hands. "You can have turn whenever you like." 

The back room was colder than the main living area, being closed off from even the weak glow of the furnace. Scout's breath hung in the air in short-lived puffs. There was a fake plant in the corner, and cheap blinds that cut horizontal lines across the falling snow through the window. Through the door they could hear Soldier shouting about something, a background noise that was comforting in its normality, like some people had the sound of the ocean. 

"I'm not fuckin' around," said Scout, though it wasn't clear who he was trying to convince. The heat from Heavy's body was soaking through the air between them. 

Heavy put one hand on Scout's face, nearly covering half his head. 

"Brave leetle man," he said quietly. "Runs so fast, but always toward trouble." 

"I'm only little compared to you," Scout pointed out. "And then, so are, like, mooses and shit." 

"Maybe so," Heavy laughed, and shifted his hand into the fuzz of Scout's hair, and kissed him as if to test his resolve. Scout never let a challenge go by untaken, and he kissed back with all the subtlety and finesse of a bat to the head. Heavy sank down against the wall, and Scout followed to straddle his lap. 

It must have been some Russian trick. Scout was warming up already. Warm enough to get rid of his clothes, in fact. Who needed pants when you had a comrade? 

Heavy's eyes followed him intently, inscrutable. 

"Vhat vas it you said you vanted me to do?" Heavy said, in a way that suggested he remembered perfectly well. 

Scout ignored him and grabbed one of Heavy's hands. He stripped off the glove and dropped it to the side. Then he stuck Heavy's finger in his mouth and sucked on it with gusto. Heavy made a low grunting noise. 

"That translate, Rooskie?" Scout said, letting his finger out of his mouth with a wet pop. He ran his tongue all over Heavy's middle finger too, for good measure. 

"Da," Heavy rumbled, and proved he'd gotten the point. 

"Fffuck," Scout gasped. He grabbed Heavy by the back of his thick neck and held on for dear life. "Y-yeah. Like that." 

Heavy pumped his finger in and out, paying close attention to the symphony of noises Scout made, which were fascinating and obscene. He was a man who knew the beauty of the details, like every click of his gun. 

"Gimme some more," Scout panted. 

Heavy was good at obeying orders. Scout pressed his face into his neck as his hands dug into his shoulders. He smelled like leather and gunpowder. Scout noticed the bandolier jamming into his ribs without quite being able to care. 

Scout's hands scrabbled down Heavy's chest and yanked at his belt. "I wanna see if your dick's the same size as the rest of you." 

Heavy lent a hand, which was good, because the other was making it hard for Scout to concentrate. Working together, they got his pants down. Scout stopped and stared. 

"Da-amn," he said, with a touch of awe. 

"Is only natural," said Heavy modestly. 

"Ohh yeah." Scout leaned forward to hiss in Heavy's ear, as his fingers sank deeper into him. "You kept everybody else pretty quiet. Fuck that shit. I'm gonna scream." 

Heavy's free hand groped for something in the pocket of his half-down pants. Scout thought it would be better put to use groping him until he saw what Heavy was bringing out. 

"Doktor is good comrade also," Heavy said. "Has many useful things." 

"Somebody get him a medal," Scout breathed, watching Heavy slick up his cock. 

Heavy pulled his fingers out and settled his hands on Scout's hips. "Do you vant to lie back?" 

"Hell no, fatass," Scout said, grabbing Heavy's shoulder with one hand and reaching down for his cock with the other. "We're doin' this my way. You're my bitch." 

If Heavy was going to protest, he didn't get the chance. Scout thrust himself down onto his cock, with widening eyes and a gasp that turned into a keening cry. Heavy's lips parted as his head fell back, his fingers fluttering up Scout's sides. Scout didn't know if he'd gotten in over his head, and that spiked him with excitement. 

"Leetle man, you are..." said Heavy, and lost his train of thought. 

Scout was still, eyes closed, shivers running through his slim body. He had to wet his lips and swallow a few times before he could speak. 

"Pretty...unh...fuckin' great, huh?" Scout braced himself on Heavy's broad shoulders and tried to remember to breathe. He didn't have the patience to push himself down slowly. "Aww christ!" 

His voice rang in Heavy's ears. His breathing was fast and loud on Heavy's neck. 

"Harasho," Heavy murmured, stroking the soft bristles of hair at the nape of his neck. "Tui delaesh ochen harasho." 

"I have no idea what the fuck you just said but it's fucking hot." Scout was beginning to experimentally move himself up and down. Heavy's hand moved to his hip and held on tight. There were going to be imprints of a few huge fingers left there, Scout thought with satisfaction. 

"Go slow," said Heavy. 

"Fuck you," said Scout and slammed himself down. 

Scout's cry cut the chill air as he wrapped his arms around Heavy's neck and rode him with a will. Heavy took hold of his cock, and Scout would never call him stupid again after coming up with something that brilliant. Heavy was breathing a jumble of Russian, and Scout couldn't understand a word but he could feel them as he rubbed his face against Heavy's stubbled cheek. 

"Oh fuck. Ohfuckohfuckohfuck." 

He moved faster and faster, first to prove what he could take but then because he couldn't help it. Heavy's hips were coming up to meet him in time with his movements. Little moans and "ah"s were slipping past his lips and steadily getting louder until he got his legs hooked around Heavy's waist and found an angle that made him keep his promise about screaming. Heavy's hand enveloped his cock with heat and strength, and he came all over his own naked stomach. 

Heavy's head was lolling back, eyes hooded. He was using Scout's hip as a handle to keep him moving, weirdly gentle though Scout had a feeling that grip could crush him if he wanted to - god, why was that hot? Scout could feel him come through his entire body, the muscles underneath him tensing and releasing as Heavy breathed out a low sound, and Scout couldn't move his eyes from the look of bliss on his broad, expressive face. 

Scout draped himself, panting, over Heavy as the Russian stroked his back, watched the snow fall through the window over his shoulder, and realized he'd forgotten about the cold. 

\------------------------- 

In the common room, all was quiet. Pyro was laying on the floor watching the red glow through the bars of the furnace, mrffing at particularly interesting developments. Soldier was trying to fit CHINESE PLOT TO REPLACE OUR CANINES WITH AUTONOMOUS SPY ROBOTS into the available four blocks of a crossword puzzle. Sniper was finishing up a sleeve. 

The door to the back room opened. Scout swaggered out, wearing a grin and Heavy's ushanka. Heavy followed, looking a little more discreet, but not much. He sat on the couch next to Medic, who naturally shifted position to lean against him. Scout took up the other side. 

"Ze report on ze radio is zat ze snow vill hold for another two days," Medic remarked. 

"Terrible thing," said Heavy blandly. 

Scout shoved his arm around under he was nestled comfortably. "Sunshine is for pussies."


End file.
